


Opening Pandora's Box...

by ananonymousbisexual



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Asexual Character, Biphobia, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexuality, Coming Out, F/F, First Crush, First Kiss, Gay Male Character, Girls Kissing, Growing Up, Happy Ending, Homophobia, Hopeful Ending, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Lesbian Character, M/M, POV Second Person, Promise, Trans Character, not as depressing as it sounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 12:46:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6956992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ananonymousbisexual/pseuds/ananonymousbisexual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Can I kiss you?” She asks at some point during the night. You think it was around 2am, the party’s in full swing, music blaring all around you. You wonder if you misheard her, but then remember the way she looked at you earlier and how she told you that you looked beautiful when you first showed up for predrinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Opening Pandora's Box...

**Author's Note:**

> Everything I've written about here is based on personal experiences and is kinda my own way of getting my feelings out on paper. Which is highly therapeutic and I recommend it to everyone. Hopefully they'll be plenty that's relatable/helpful for others who've been/are going through similar personal issues, as that's my aim in posting this. Enjoy! :)

“That’s so _gay_ ,” says your friend Sam, about something stupid, something unimportant, something that is very much not gay. You’re nine or ten years old and you’ve never heard this word before.

You don’t know what it means, but you can tell it’s something bad by the way he says it. You want to ask him what it means, but at the same time you don’t. Your friends already tease you enough for asking too many questions. You just want to be cool.

After that, you seem to hear this word, used in that particular context, quite a lot.

“School is so _gay_.”

“You’re so _gay_ , what’re you doing!”

“Stop being so _gay_...”

You decide that _gay_ must be another word for stupid or weird or gross.

You think about that song you used to sing when you were smaller, about Kookaburra sitting in the old gum tree, laughing because his life was _gay_ and how the adults told you that in the olden days _gay_ meant happy, but now it means something else. Something they tell you you’re not allowed to know (yet).

You start using the word too. You want to be cool. There’s a rumour going round that one of the boys fancies you. You’re not sure what to think about this really, but you’re very flattered and wonder what it’s like to be kissed (properly) by someone. In the films it looks so lovely and nice. You think you’d like that. You don’t actually find out what it’s like to be kissed for another ten years and it’s not at all the way your ten year old self expects it to go.

You say it aloud in front of your family for the first time one day in the car driving into town.

Your sister asks what that means, because of course she’s only in year 4 and doesn’t know about grown up words that you’re allowed to use, since you’re the eldest.

You panic for a moment, because you don’t know what it means either.

“You’re too young to know, Kate,” you tell her in a stroke of genius, echoing your teachers from before.

Your mum says nothing and keeps driving.

In September that year you go to secondary school. It’s incredibly exciting. You feel so very grown up. Everyone seems to use the word all the time, amongst other new ones like fuck and shit and bugger and crap. Those ones are really bad though. You know you’re not allowed to say them.

Your drama teacher gets sick of it one day and tells the whole class emphatically that _gay is not a bad word_. It’s actually perfectly normal. It means that two men have fallen in love with each other and want to spend their lives together.

You learn another word that day as well: lesbian. Your drama teacher tells everyone that there’s nothing wrong with it at all, with any of it. He says that 10% of the population are gay and that they were born that way. It says so according this scientist called Kinsey and the Kinsey Scale, which he invented. You wonder if your teacher is gay, because he also teaches dance and you overheard one of the boys saying that dance was _gay_ one time.

People still use the word to mean stupid or bad though.

You don’t like this, so you stop saying it. You shouldn’t be mean to other people for something they can’t help. You know this because sometimes your classmates are mean to you about the way you look. It’s a horrible feeling.

Soon you learn other synonyms for gay and lesbian. Offensive words. One of the girls in your Science class says that those words are really mean and horrible and that we shouldn’t use them because gay people are normal. Her cousin is gay. She also tells you he’s a woman living in a man’s body, but it’s ok, because he’s going to have an operation to turn his body into a woman’s, so he can be happy again.

Other people in your class still use the words though and you understand that being gay or lesbian or transgender is weird and hard and not acceptable for most people.

You start to get suspicious of one of your dad’s friends. He isn’t married, but he lives with another man. You’ve only ever seen the man he lives with once or twice in passing and you know his name is Paul because you’ve heard your parents talk about calling in on Robert and Paul before. He never sits down with you and your family and Uncle Rob when you visit their house. You remember asking about him a long time ago and your parents explaining that sometimes people share houses together when they’re friends because it’s cheaper. Their house was old and posh and big and near the city centre and they had a grand piano and a long garden. Your house wasn’t any of these things so it made sense to your childish brain at the time.

But now you’re suspicious. You hear Uncle Rob talking about what they both did at the weekend or when they went on holiday together.

You’re proved right when you go to Uncle Rob’s 60th birthday party. You’re in year 9 and he asks you and Kate to stand behind everyone while the speeches are going on and to take photos. You both feel so important and it’s much more exciting than listening to the boring old fogies talking. He tells you to be ready for a special moment because he has a surprise to announce to the guests and he wants you to capture their reactions at exactly the right second.

It turns out the surprise is that he and the man your parents said was his flatmate actually got married. (You only find out later that it wasn’t officially marriage, but a civil partnership, but the words he used in the speech were “got married“ and it never occurred to you that gay people couldn’t get married too).

After the party you go up to your room to read your book. Your mum comes in after a while and sits on the edge of your bed.

“So,” she says, “you’ve been to your first gay wedding. How’re you feeling?”

“Mum!” You say, “stop it, it’s not a big deal.”

She goes away after that. You never talk about sex or love or boys with her. That would be SO weird.

On Monday you tell all your friends that you went to a gay wedding. They think you’re really cool and your parents must be SO liberal and open-minded.

For your birthday you go to see the new Harry Potter film in the cinema with your dad (it’s tradition) and Jennie and Claire. They’re your best friends, although they’re far more interested in boys and watching horror films at sleepovers than you are.   

During the film you find yourself somehow mesmerised by Emma Watson. You can’t take your eyes off her. She’s just so beautiful. From her eyes, and her coy, knowing smiles, to the way she holds herself. You tell yourself to stop thinking about her and to focus on how hot Daniel Radcliffe is, or Rupert Grint. You’re not a lesbian, you tell yourself, you don’t look like one. You’re girly and have long hair and like wearing dresses and are the complete opposite of a punk. You tell yourself to stop being silly and not to think about it anymore. You only think those things because you want to be like her.

This happens again and again and again when the next few Harry Potter films come out. You insistently keep telling yourself that you are definitely completely immovably straight. You don’t want a hard life.

None of the boys in school really like you. You stopped talking to them after year 7 because magazines told you that you couldn’t be friends with boys anymore and that you’ll start to fancy them instead. You never really fancied any of the boys though. They were all idiots who did stupid things and teased you and threw things in your hair. Some of them were good looking though and you got a bit shy when you talked to them. But the idea of having an actual boyfriend like some of your friends was just gross.   

Sir Ian McKellen comes to your school when you’re in year 10 to talk to everyone about homophobia. It’s the COOLEST thing to ever happen to you ever. You vow to always be supportive of gay people and to treat them as you would anyone else. The deputy head ends up interrupting him because he was going on too long. (One does not simply interrupt Gandalf, the whole school explodes internally).

Your parents arrange for you to do work experience in the office where Paul works. All your co-workers ask repeatedly how you know him. You explain that he’s your dad’s friend’s partner. It’ll only occur to you five years later that you may have outted them to the entire work force in your attempt to seem open-minded and chill and nice and absolutely definitely not naïve. How ironic. 

Joshua, the only boy in your friendship group comes out as gay. You’d always suspected it, really. But he and one of the girls (she was a bit over the top religious) were both always REALLY homophobic so you were never sure. You’re all really supportive of him and you all know the stereotypes about gay boys giving good fashion and relationship advice and he fits these stereotypes pretty well. In sixth form you take the bus with him almost every day and he tells you about how scared he is to come out to his parents because of things he’s heard them say about homosexuality in the past. You tell him it’ll be fine and that they’ll love him no matter what. Thankfully you’re proved right and it’s all ok. In year 13 he gets a boyfriend and you’re really happy for him, though you could definitely do without the daily graphic descriptions of their sex life. Anal sex sounds SO GROSS, although they seem to like it a lot...

You can’t remember the first time you heard the word bisexual. It might’ve been back in year 7 when your drama teacher told you about the Kinsey Scale and that _gay is not an insult._ But you’re not sure. It never seemed very important. No one ever uses bisexual as an insult at least. You’d heard people in school saying it didn’t exist or that people used it as a stepping stone to coming out properly or that bisexuals were greedy whores who had sex all the time and never stayed in relationships, but it was mostly completely ignored; not important. Either you were gay or you were straight. Simple.

On your French exchange’s facebook it says “Interested in Men and Women” and you’re confused and worried. What happens if she says something about it to your parents?! Or does something slutty at the party you’re planning to go to. You tell the boy you have an awkward crush on at the time and he’s also confused. He doesn’t correct or challenge you.

It turns out that your French exchange has a boyfriend so it doesn’t matter anyway.

The LGBT society at your college is called QUILTBAG. You go to the fresher’s fair at the beginning of Upper Sixth and they call you and your best friend, Lauren over. You explain that you’re an ally and they’re pleased. Lauren says that at best she’s bi-curious and they give her a sticker. You don’t have a problem with this. Later in the year she comes out as asexual and explains it to you. You try to be understanding and supportive and hope that it comes out right. You try to understand her feelings as best you can, especially when another of your friends laughs in her face and says “that doesn’t seem real, though.”

There’s a lesbian couple who spend all their time making out on the benches near where you and your friends sit. They’re kinda weird and wear weird hats and clothes and won’t stop eating each other’s faces when you’re trying to enjoy your lunch period or break. It’s gross. You and your friends all agree on this, but also agree that you can’t say anything because you don’t want to seem intolerant. 

You go on holiday with a group of friends to celebrate finishing your A Levels. Nowhere fancy, just Cornwall for the beach and hiking and playing at being grown up for the first time, with no adults around to tell you what to do. There’s one girl, Dani, who you get pretty close to on the road trip, as you all like to call it. You’ve always liked her, but neither of you were especially close since she wasn’t in any of your classes at college, but by the end of the week, the two of you have become inseparable. You seem to do everything together. As tends to happen in groups, you split up into smaller groups, so it’s only natural that you stick to each other like glue, right? You just want to be near her all the time and you love talking to her and making her laugh and laughing with her and it makes you feel really nice and warm and fuzzy inside. It’s a really lovely feeling. You have such a fun holiday and you’re all really busy the whole time, so you don’t have time to think about important things properly until you get home. It’s only then that it occurs to you that you might actually be crushing on her.

The funny thing is though, that it doesn’t feel like any of the crushes you’ve had on boys before. It feels real because you know that she at least likes you (as a friend in any case) and that scares you, because you’re not a lesbian, you can’t be, you’re not like the weird couple that are all over each other at break time, you’re not masculine, you’re not slutty, and you’ve had crushes on boys LOADS before, albeit from afar. It doesn’t occur to you that you might be bisexual.

So, naturally, you crush your feelings. Hard.  You force yourself not to think about it, or when you do, to convince yourself that it was strictly platonic, only. You don’t see her for the whole summer because she’s on work experience and you go on holiday for a few weeks with your family. It’s fairly easy to do, all things considered. You tell yourself your feelings were silly and not real and a product of being together for such a long time without a break and that you deeply admire her and just want to be _like_ her.

You deny to yourself that you ever had a crush on her.

When you next meet, it’s as a big group for your A Level results. Understandably, you have other things on your mind and cannot decide if you have butterflies because you’re seeing her again or because you’re worried about your results. A few weeks later she goes off to Uni and you don’t see her for a long time because she’s so busy with her course and you’re so busy with yours and so much happens in such a short space of time that you forget about everything. Denial is the easiest thing in the world.  

One of the girls in your old friendship group from secondary school comes out on facebook through a relationship status update. You feel bad because you would never have guessed, but at the same time, the two of you were never very close. You congratulate her on her new relationship all the same and feel better about yourself.

Your second year at uni goes much better than your first. You discuss sexuality with a new friend, Jess, in a café one day and you both conclude that you’re straight but that if you happened to fall in love with a woman then so what! Sexuality is fluid, everyone knows that. It’s silly to limit yourself. The word bisexual is never mentioned once.

A few months later she confides in you again. It turns out that she has a history with girls. You’re the only person she’s told at uni because the reaction from her schoolmates had been so negative. You tell her it’s fine, it’s all fine and you’ll support and love her whatever happens, though you’re fairly sure she is only romantically interested in boys. She says she prefers not to label herself. Fair enough, you think. No one should dictate another person’s identity.

Another friend from college comes out as bi to your friendship group during the holidays. You’re supportive and open about it of course, but she’s well on her way down the road to self-obsession since starting uni and all four of you wonder if this is yet another example of her seeking attention.

In the summer of second year you have your first real proper crush on a guy. His name’s Tom and he’s so kind and sweet and funny and caring and the opposite of Dani who you’ve all but forgotten about by this point. You end up going travelling together with Jess and have one of the best weeks of your life. Nothing ever happens between the two of you as you’re too shy and he’s so extroverted and has other friends he wants to hang out with too. But he calls you one of the nicest people he knows and your heart sings.

He’s on a different course too and will graduate before you do, so you doubt you’ll ever see him again and you’re right of course, other than the odd facebook message to see how things are hanging.

On the other hand, these feelings (finally) cement it into your brain that you’re straight. And you feel so massively relieved that your life doesn’t have to be harder and abnormal and that now you have definite proof to yourself that you are 100% heterosexual.

In hindsight it’s almost funny how fear and heteronormativity and lack of representation and years of internal repression let you lie to yourself so easily.

You take a year out from uni in your third year and go abroad. It’s simultaneously the best and hardest year of your life.

After an awkward conversation involving misunderstanding the difference between Freund (friend) and Freund (boyfriend), Stella, a girl you get to know in your accommodation block comes out to you as lesbian. This isn’t a problem for you at all, why should it be? By now at least, you know that just because a woman is attracted to women generally, this doesn’t have to mean that she’s attracted to you specifically. And either way, you’re 100% heterosexual and confident in that knowledge, so what difference does it make to you.

Stella, it turns out, is seriously fucking cool and alternative and open about EVERYTHING and invites you to go out clubbing with her and her friends. You go to a gay club and have the time of your life, it’s so incredible to see so many same-sex couples and it makes you so happy that they are so open and comfortable in their own skin, despite the fact that this country is more conservative in some respects in comparison to the UK. They don’t have same-sex marriage yet. And same-sex couples aren’t even allowed to adopt children here.

It all explodes however, a few months later, on another night out. It’s just you and Stella and only a couple of her friends this time. You’re all pretty drunk on cheap German wine and having a whale of a time.  

“Can I kiss you?” She asks at some point during the night. You think it was around 2am, the party’s in full swing, music blaring all around you. You wonder if you misheard her, but then remember the way she looked at you earlier and how she told you that you looked beautiful when you first showed up for predrinks.

“I don’t know,” you reply stupidly, surprised, but also secretly pleased.

She sighs comically in frustration and asks again.

You repeat yourself. You’re definitely beyond tipsy and in that moment have no idea what to do. You’ve never kissed anyone before.

“We can try it out,” she says, grinning, deciding for you. You notice, and not for the first time either, that she’s really pretty, with her cute smile and her big blue eyes and her sexy hair as she approaches you.

Your first kiss is not how you expected it to be at all. You have no idea what to do and at first it’s awkward and you don’t respond because you don’t know how, but she encourages you and you figure things out pretty quickly after that.

She cupping your breasts and squeezing your arse and suddenly leaving love bites on both sides of your neck. They hurt more than you expect but at the same time it’s so sexy that you can’t help but cry out. You suck and lick and bite at each other’s reddened, kiss-swollen lips, running your hands through her soft hair as she strokes both of hers down your sides, past your waist, resting them low on your hips.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” she says, breathlessly, pausing for air, her forehead pressed to yours.

“Ok,” you say, smiling because no first kiss can ever or will ever be this good, because consent is so important and you feel completely in control. You kiss her some more.

Now it’s your turn to explore. Cautiously, tentatively at first and then getting steadily more and more confident. You hope she’s enjoying it as much as you are, since she’s clearly far more experienced, but she only ever seems more and more enthusiastic.  

You’ve never felt more feminine and sexy in your whole life.

You spend actual hours kissing, right up until the lights in the club come up and the music stops and everyone is told to go home.  

You walk home alone together, giggling awkwardly, holding hands. She invites you into her room.

“Just to cuddle,” she says, looking up at you through her long lashes.

You accept.

You fall asleep, warm in each other’s arms, with the feel of her drunkenly misplaced goodnight kiss still tingling on your cheek. You feel so happy, so at peace with the world, in that moment completely and utterly content to be you.

The next morning you message your best friends back home, to tell them everything that happened.

“So, are you a lesbian now, then?” Lauren responds, jokily.

“I don’t think so,” you reply, “I’m pretty sure I’m bi, though.”     

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, please free to leave a comment, unless it's a homophobic/biphobic one in which case kindly fuck off please. :) 
> 
> Seriously though, comments make me happy. Especially since I made a new account solely for the purpose of posting this... So I'd love to know what you think! :) <3 
> 
> PS. Handy adulting tip: don't ever drunkenly get with a flatmate. Like, please do think twice about it ;)


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